


How To Deal With Both Worlds

by chris_g



Series: Crossovers That No One Asked For [CM/SPN Edition] [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Crack Crossover, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, MC Is A College Student, No Original Female Character Specified, No Reader Specified, No Romance, Not Beta Read, Platonic Relationships, Probably ooc, it's a fucking crack really but a bit serious, lmao this starts a bit of crack, psychology student at that yo, references from other fandoms incoming, spare me cuz this is my first ff, the mc has mystery around her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2020-12-31 16:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21148382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chris_g/pseuds/chris_g
Summary: Prompt by my friend: "What if BAU dealt with something Supernatural?"She is a broke-college student who just wants a damn normal life for once, but then gets smacked in the middle of a crossfire by both worlds. A series of bodies drop like fishes; some of her former high school classmates are dead and she has become a target.To say that BAU is on their way to solve the case, now the TFW is also on the move. How can she put her two uncles, Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi, and the rest of the team away from the other side; while not wanting her favourite hunters to be caught by the FBI again?Fuck her life, right?<< no specified name and physical attributes>><< female pronouns >><< can be used as reader-insert or original character >><< no romance; all platonic >>





	1. Restroom Problem

**Author's Note:**

> not beta read lmao i die like men  
also, possible ooc haha fuck yeah

In all her life, she never liked bright mornings—blue skies and blinding sun with its scorching heat—nope, not her thing. Unless it was early, earlier than that shit; dark heavens with its calming silence—_still _morning—this was alright on her list.

But not today, Satan.

Getting up at five o’clock in the _damn _morning, she got no idea why. All she wanted was a long sleep since she pulled up an all-nighter yesterday—and boy, how she just wanted to be smacked by Death himself, mentally begging for a good ol’ sleep.

Oh, and she also had no idea _what the actual shit _was happening until someone came up to her and told her everything.

She was under surveillance, they said, because some criminal got lose and she became a target.

_What?_

There was a pattern—though she cared less about that. Did they tell her what was it? Not really. All she got was that this person held a vengeful feeling towards their class _yada yada_. Did she care? Of course, her former colleagues were in danger, some of them were now dead, and she was currently on death list.

She just wanted to be a normal civilian (for now), not to be caught up in the middle of a crossfire.

The broke-college student was even asked if she had someone in mind who was behind this. Unfortunately to all of them, including her, she came up empty. She wasn’t exactly social back then (still now though, guilty as charged) and had her own world ‘til she was in her early high school years.

Sure, she did sign up for a course where the concept of time was almost nonexistent and socializing was a demand, but she didn’t care about time nor the amount of energy required to interact with people. She loved it; she loved psychology. Studying humans was her thing—not becoming a target participant instead. It was supposed to be other way round.

Also, death caused by academics? Okay, well, that she could handle. Death by someone? Depends.

_Funny for a psychology student having a mindset like this._

Then again, what did anyone expect? What could _she _expect? Pasts would still find a way to haunt her. Old habits die hard.

Curiosity got into her though, wondering why and what triggered that person to be vengeful towards them. By thinking about it, she would have been this excited—that adrenaline rush because, _come on_…smacked in the middle of the crime, having a one-time chance to see these people seeing in action while studying the minds of a criminal; who wouldn’t be giddy? Then the victims’ corpse (specifically her classmates) and the horror they were in flashed into her mind, she immediately felt deflated.

Guess, she was twisted that way, huh?

Anyway, apparently, she was settled some sort of office, now accompanied by a bubbly sunshine whom she got to know during the team’s conversation: Penelope Garcia, co-worker of Aaron Hotchner—her uncle.

Well, she knew them already; just didn’t have a good memory to memorise their names even though she met them a few times (flashbacks to her professors whom she had forgotten their names, too).

BAU. FBI. Crime fighters—that was what they were called.

It was rare to get on a case, but when they did, they’d be there in no time. But even if a case happened rarely and more on paper works, it seemed that nightmares wouldn’t just stop. This was something she knew ever since she got to know her uncle when she was a kid.

At first, she didn’t know why people would do something like this—which was one of the sole reasons why she took up psychology; to understand and study them—but today? She still had no idea. Perhaps, she wouldn’t in the future as well.

Such complex creature.

_Demons, I get. People, don’t._

She chuckled at that thought; it reminded her of someone…or someone-s. _Heh._

Suddenly, she felt eyes on her and immediately looked up, now noticing a certain uncle watching her closely. Her smile wiped off, so quick like her grades falling, as she pursed her lips in thought. _Get it together. You’re a damn nineteen-year-old college student, this is no time for smiling in a very inappropriate situation_, she mentally scolded herself.

She might have looked like an odd woman with a grin on her face while being surrounded with gruesome pictures.

Speaking of which, these pictures now got her attention. It seemed that her mind had made her missed most important exchange among the team, but that was the least of her worries. For one, she just realized that these bodies presented were her _former _classmates in high school, mentally cursing herself for slipping that information again. She would’ve cried and vomit now that it dawned on her but, guess, years of seeing horrors got her used to it. Still, she could only hope their souls be in peace and no more nightmares coming for them. Two, the bodies—it wasn’t just because they were killed messily and mercilessly, but the holes in their stomach. It wasn’t a clean-cut like in surgery (if it were in a surgery, it shouldn’t be a hole); it was as if someone really _ripped _something out without much of a thought. Common missing parts in the body? _Intestines_.

“Hey,” she jumped on her seat, feeling a rough hand on her shoulder. _I must have spaced out._ She looked to the side and saw Hotch, dark eyes studying her movements. Profiling alone might have put her unease but she was always one step ahead. After all, even a pair of trained eyes could have a hard time reading one person out of many. And she was that one person.

Sure, he had known her for years, practically watched out for her even before her mother died and her dad left with someone else. But some things were meant to be kept—and she just had that information buried deep inside her. He might have been a BAU profiler in a _motherfucking _FBI, gained some knowledge from the man himself, but she was also trained in the underground where no human could fully comprehend the other side of this cruel world.

And just like that, her brain suddenly reminded her of the situation she was in, grimacing at the thought of being inside the FBI Headquarter. _Jesus, I’m so fucked if not careful. _Internally sighing, she bit her lower lip._ What’s up danger, indeed._

“You okay, kid?”

“Uh, yeah.” She nodded, clearing her throat. “Yeah…I’m okay.”

Hotch didn’t seem to buy her excuse; she guessed his assumption to be about the crime. She would have corrected him, but it was better to make him think that way because this case was something else. Also, it wasn’t that she was least affected by their death, no, just a big portion of her mind was actually thinking about how to deal with a creatu—

“We’ll be out in ten minutes,” he said, ruffling her hair. “Don’t worry, Garcia will accompany you.”

The college student could stay silent, not knowing what else to say. In her peripheral vision, she saw Uncle Rossi standing idly, seemingly observing her behaviour. _I would’ve freaked out if I weren’t used to this by now. _Smiling shyly, she got a nod from him.

_‘You’ll be fine.’ _That look, it was all too familiar to her. After all, he did visit her from time to time since the incident. She knew Hotch looked for a small assistance from Rossi during the finalization of her custody, hence the Italian earned a title from _mister _to _uncle _real-quick.

She would always be thankful for that…despite she was never part of their family.

Shaking her head to get rid-off of that angsty thought, the young woman furrowed her eyebrows. She had to act quick; she had to get to _them_ before the team could solve the case; before anyone could die. Everything was risky, but there was no other option.

Not noticing that the two men already left the room nor hearing the team’s footsteps fade in the background, she looked at the photos with trained eyes. So far all she got information was the fact that this was done by someone who had a grudge on their class, and it was obviously not a work by a mere human. _Who the fuck could just snatch and take your goddamn intestines inside you?_

With that thought in mind, she stood up, quickly grabbing her small, black sling bag (her backpack was pretty much in the other room—probably some agent decided to put it there for god knows where). Glancing at the photos still being displayed, the young adult couldn’t help but think. _Is this where I should make this case unsolved, and might catch the attention of two ghoul boys?_

Pursing her lips, that wasn’t so bad if she were successful in keeping the team in the dark, so as everyone else. “Fucking hell,” she murmured, feeling a bit stressed with the situation at hand.

As she walked, the student didn’t notice the team still standing by the elevator, waiting for its door to open. Not until when Rossi called her name.

“Where are you going?”

She met his gaze with a strained smile, “Restroom.” That wasn’t really a lie, but she actually got somewhere to go. The restroom was just kind of a first destination so no one could find her plan suspicious. Or so she hoped.

At least to her though since she was a potential victim and got no idea about the unsub. But on the other hand, she definitely knew something entirely different.

With that, she made her way to the restroom; well, at least that was what she thought to be the way. _Fuck me_. She stopped, silently groaning.

Turning around, she saw the team still by the elevator, looking at her in amusement. _Come to think of it, why would an elevator take longer to arrive than usually is? _But that wasn’t the point, was it? This was embarrassing—that much was evident—and all she wanted was a reaper to get her soul right there and then.

For one, she didn’t know where the restroom was.

“Uhh…help?”


	2. Four Bombs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dropping four bombs to the two brothers might not be the best idea, but she has to give them a heads up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still not beta read wooooo

If there was something she wasn’t looking forward to, that would be seeing the team again once this _shit_ was over. Embarrassment was such an understatement to what just happened; like seriously, she desperately wanted a reaper right _fucking_ now to get her out of this world.

She could feel the amusement from them, even the small twitch on Hotch’s lips and the twinkle of Rossi’s eyes.

At least she was currently in the restroom.

Shaking her head, the woman slapped her face—_and_ _that stung, dammit_—silently begging herself to get back on track. She then held up her right hand in front of her face, and there she saw a plain, gold band resting on her ring finger.

Thinking about the object, she remembered the first memory of it. Hilarious and a bit awkward too if she were being honest. Sure, it did look like the four of them were getting married to each other, having some sort of a polyamorous relationship because four gold rings were being presented by no other than the nineteen-wacko-college student who was spouting about how they all needed this shit right now. When in reality, they—more like _she_—just decided to perform a blood-binding ritual _with rings_ because it was the only way for her to trace _them _where at this point. She was a dark lord, alright? She could rule the Middle Earth nowadays.

After all, when a certain blue-eyed angel decided to brand the brothers, no creature could detect them anywhere—not even sorcery or any form of magic, not that she had magic to begin with. But bless her friend’s help, she could easily know their current location.

Desperate times called for desperate shit. Tide had changed.

Also, GPS could do but she didn’t want to risk them being found by FBI _again_. For sure, if she used any technology, a tiny _ping _would alert the techy-blonde.

Giving the special ring with a kiss; in a blink, she found herself sitting at the back of the impala. And surely, they hadn’t noticed her yet despite the faint glowing in their rings before it faded out. Obviously, they were more focused on the same case that had been troubling the place, exchanging words here and there. Though, she momentarily forgot about it as her sadistic side suddenly resurfaced.

“It’s weird,” inquired by the tall dude, named Sam, brows furrowed in confusion and worry. “We haven’t dealt with something like this.”

“You mean victims being ripped out of their intestines?” added by this short driver, Dean; hands on the wheel but green eyes seemed to be searching for answers or memory that could _possibly _resemble from the situations they had before. “Yeah, you’re right. I tried remembering about the previous cases we were on, but nothing came up.”

“I’ve searched every lore…” Sam trailed off; his fingers occupied the keyboard, yet when an alert popped up saying ‘no search found’, he groaned. “Nothing.”

Seeing this a chance to butt in, she leaned forward, head between their shoulders. For sure, karma would hit her fast, though this’d be worth it.

“Hmm, I wonder.”

“Fucking shi—”

That was Sam, alright. _Fucking Sam Winchester_. No surprise if it was the brawny and handsome green-eyed forty-something-year-old dude, but a late-thirties-something-year-old gentle giant, cinnamon dude? Okay, that was so unexpected yet fucking priceless. No regrets right there.

Make that ten times better because Dean _motherfucking_ Winchester almost peed himself when he heard his little brother swore out of nowhere and then there was a small head peeking beside him, causing the car to sway _quite dramatically_. Good thing he got the upper hand immediately or else, they were going to be wrecked.

It was like a whirlwind domino effect of chaos.

She was that chaotic, that much she knew.

“Kid, wha—” pursing his lips, Dean glared at her. “How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?!”

“And how many times are you gonna fall for it though?” The student _instinctively_ sassed, now internally panicking about her life. She shouldn’t have said that; it just sealed the deal of her grave. “You guys should know by now about those rings I gave you. They’ll glow when you’ve been traced and I’m near or about to pop in…” she murmured, slightly pouting.

Oh shit, she could feel the intensified gaze from both brothers. Smiling sheepishly, she decided to come clean. “Sorry, sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise. Spare me, please.”

Sam only raised an eyebrow. Though, he tried not to smile noticing the young woman actually sweating. It was amusing, really. For sure, his brother also found it funny, seeing that the corner of his eyes wrinkled, but there was still a bit of frustration on his face. Nonetheless, a small humour couldn’t be that bad, right? Even though the stunt was rather dangerous.

Clearing his throat, the younger Winchester decided to speak about her sudden appearance. Curiosity got into him; he knew that the girl would only pop in if something important came up, and his brother was aware of that too. Now that her brief comment a while ago entered his mind, his nosy side got stronger and was eager to know what she meant by that.

“So, is there something we need to know?”

The young woman immediately perked up and looked at him, “I think I know.”

That statement alone had them sit up straight, their attention focused on her now. _The case should be easy_, thought by both brothers.

“I forgot though.”

_This little shit—_

“Hehe, strike two—_ow!_”

Dean pinched her ear, causing her to shriek in both shock and slight pain. They spoke too soon, and fell for that _again_. The older brother could feel the fast-whitening of his hair, whereas the younger one could sense his blood sugar rising despite the green-vegie diet he had been keeping up for _fifteen_ _years_ through hell and back.

“Look,” she said, her hands quickly covering their mouths before they got to say anything; more so to the long-haired dude on her right because all hell would break loose again but make it _part three_. “I’m not joking when I said that I know this one. I just don’t know what, but I’ll try looking for it, all right?”

With that, she removed her hands from them, albeit reluctantly, and did wipe her wet palms (due to condensation) on their pants before settling her elbows on their seats and linking her fingers together. “For the meantime, just ask something their families.”

Dean glanced at his brother, who in return did too, and sighed. Well, it was the only thing they could do for now. “Fine. But you’re out of this. Just go back and do whatever any college students would do.”

Ah, she knew this talk would come and, certainly, they wouldn’t like the last two bombs she had to drop. Smirking, she leaned back and crossed her arms.

“Jokes on you, I’m a target too.” _Strike three!_

Though, despite her sadistic delight, if it weren’t for her immediate recover, she would’ve fall forward due to how Dean abruptly stepped on the break, successfully stopping the impala from moving. And the young woman swore that Sam’s neck would literally snap because of how strong he whipped his head just to stare at her with such disbelief on his face.

_Yo, from bother-mode to father-mode real quick_.

“You’re a _what_?” That was Dean.

“You heard me, beasty.” The girl winked rather awkwardly.

Sam ran a hand down on his face, exasperation was clearly written on it: “And how did you know about this one?”

She shrugged, “Got an intel from a friend, so I gotta lay low.” There was no way she would tell them about her brief involvement in FBI, or rather _indirectly_; and the fact that her uncle was a chief, now chasing the unsub.

She knew they would find out soon but not today. _Ugh, the secrets I keep._

“And I’m assuming you’re not here physically?”

_Oh, Sam. You’re exceptionally observant._ The young woman smiled, nodding her head to affirm his guess. “Yep. It’s called bilocation or multilocation.”

“Good. At least you’re somewhere safe.”

_Eh, not really._

“Huh, you’re getting good, kid.” Okay, she wasn’t really used to receiving compliments but hearing it from _the _Dean Winchester—she’d be lying if her cheeks weren’t warm. Giving them a slight bow, she was aware that the brothers would understand the gesture: (a) a silent thank you; and (b) she never trusted her voice to say those words, it’d end up a squeak that much for sure.

“Anyway, let’s get back on the road,” the older brother said, as he started up the engine and then drove. Meanwhile, the young woman wasn’t really done with them. She was ready to go back in the precinct after dropping her last bomb.

“Uhm,” Clearing her throat, she bit her lower lip as she tried not to smile because this would be one hell of a ride. “There’s another thing though.”

Sam hummed yet didn’t look over his shoulder since he was on his laptop doing something. Whereas Dean was surely listening as his gaze was up ahead.

_Perfect._

“The FBI is on it.”

“Son of a—”

Safe to say, her etheric body was successfully back on her physical body without much of a problem.

_At least I made the homerun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note:  
[1] the blood-binding ritual/spell with ring - it serves as 'GPS', tracing where their souls/presence at any point of time and place; but is that the only thing can it do?  
[2] bilocation (or multilocation) - an object or a person appearing at two or more places at once
> 
> Fun fact:  
[a] that blood-binding ritual/spell with ring (kinda long dontcha think? haha) is made up. yep, i made that up for plot purposes hehehehe; also the tracing works when you desire or wish to see them  
[b] the bilocation or multilocation can work both consciously and unconsciously; and as far as i researched it up, the etheric body separates from your physical one


	3. Of Coffee and Milkshake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclosed information about the case is given. Storm is brewing like coffee, yet cold as milkshake. Lots of spacing out and tension. Jokes too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not beta-read as always hahaha  
possible ooc and loopholes in the case cuz i suck at writing it oof  
also, watch out for the clues. i'm dropping them

Being back on the precinct was something else—well, aside from the fact that she was back again in this same room where the debriefing happened hours ago, surrounded by the pictures still being displayed. It wasn’t that it was boring and nothing much else to do, but because her ass couldn’t handle thinking about them being on the field while she was here under surveillance. For one, she really wanted to warn her uncle and his team about the undeniable, hidden horror happening right under their noses but then she couldn’t just disclose the information as if it was normal.

_Nothing_ was ever much normal to be honest.

Also, they never believed such thing unless it was proven in front of their eyes—which was not very advisable in the first place.

And second, her friends being hunted by a _supernatural _unsub which they didn’t know about—to say she was at lost was such an understatement. And now, she had no idea what to actually do.

Well, except she had to do some research about what type of not natural they were facing; and by means “research”, it meant looking through her “palace place” or whatever her mind had consciously and unconsciously stored for her.

“Uhm.”

The college student jumped on her seat, clutching the sling bag on her chest as she looked at the person who suddenly noticed her presence after a few hours. It was _Sunshine_.

With that doe eyes of hers, she blinked, not knowing what to say. Good thing the techy lass spoke first before anything else would go awkward.

Socializing was not her specialty.

“Uhh, how are you?” Penelope asked; there was a tiny smile on her face. _Good lord_, the young college really swore right there and then to protect her from any danger. Though, she knew that nothing could ever stop the horror they had to see, more so to this bubbly woman but she was silently proud that someone in their team was optimistic despite everything.

_Such pure soul._

She nodded, clearing her throat. “Yeah…I, uhh—I’m okay,” the college student gazed at her, returning the smile. “You?”

“Oh yes,” this time, Penelope seemed to be cheery and relaxed around her. “Well, besides I worry about them but I’m good. I know they can do it.”

Hearing her say that, the girl could feel herself calming down. Something about this woman made her walls crumbling, though not that much of course considering she was still a stranger to her eyes but that was a change in her part. She was not the type of person who would let anyone in. Only a few people who could have access, and by means few…it was her boys.

The boys to whom she _secretly_ swore to protect them even if it meant laying down her life.

She broke out of her trance once she heard the techy woman called her name. Blinking, she smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I seemed to be spacing out a lot.”

Penelope only dismissed her, saying it was fine; after all, she was indeed surrounded by the pictures but it didn’t her bother at all (not that she would tell anybody about it; the only thing she was worried about was the two _different _teams solving the same case). Though, she could feel that it did bother Penny a bit as she silently closed all the tabs in the monitor which showed the gruesome photos.

Oh yeah, people might be wondering why she wasn’t in the other room where visitors usually spent their time for many reasons than one; well, she refused to go there. _Stubborn little shit_ she was, yet she didn’t want to feel suffocated from silence, especially her anxious mind. Plus, she preferred to be here so she could think; now, this reason was unknown by them, of course.

It would just raise suspicion despite she was a target. After all, she couldn’t just underestimate her uncle even if she was part of his family.

“So,” Penelope started, “you want some coffee?”

_Oh, fuck yes._

* * *

It had been a while since the touch down on the city, and the day was almost over but nothing new ever came up. So far, the leads led to nowhere as if the trails had gone cold. They were going in circles and it frustrated them to no end. There were some variables they couldn’t explain, perhaps something they should have looked for, but the pieces didn’t make sense. Naturally, they discarded them.

But one stood out: the missing intestines. How? That was the question.

Every trained eye could tell it was no machine that did it. No equipment could get intestines just like that, and if there was, it would’ve been obvious. Surgically was one, yet what made this case unique was the fact that someone _ripped it out easily_. Commonly, people would say it was an animal attack; the team would’ve turned a blind eye to that. But the chilling part was their graduation picture.

It was cut out from the yearbook, from a _specific _class, and placed beside the mutilated body.

Hotch ran a hand down from his face as his eyes searched at the board filled with pinned pictures, documents and markers, desperately looking for _something _that they missed or could stand out. And the fact that no prints or any remains that could indicate to unsub’s identity and motive, it was infuriating to say the least. Spencer, being beside him, had his arms crossed with furrowed eyebrows; and for a person who always had a thing in mind, surprisingly it was all blank.

The rest was doing on their own, but no one could ignore the heavy atmosphere they all shared. Nothing could cut out of it.

Emily, however, was silently observing them and she could tell that this case was weighing on them. All of them needed some fresh eye, but it seemed impossible to even take a rest because of how it got escalated. By thinking about it, she was mulling about the pieces they currently had.

“Okay,” it was sudden, successfully breaking the silence, as the others snapped out from their trance. She had to speak, or else they couldn’t go further. “Let’s go over what we have gathered.”

Spencer and Hotch finally faced the rest, their stance becoming a bit relax but still tense; though the young agent began. “Three bodies were found on their respective residence with a yearbook and a cut out picture of their graduation photo. There was no sign of struggle, considering that the death was quick and no other indicators that the victims were fighting for their lives.”

“Right,” Rossi agreed. “According to the police, one thing they have in common, aside from their grad photo and yearbook, is their eyes. Open wide. Seemingly shocked. It’s safe to assume that the unsub was already inside their house, snuck behind and killed them right then. Possibly they knew the one behind this.”

Spencer nodded, “To say the killing did _not_ happen before the unsub’s exploration to their room, it happened _after_ the rummage. That meant, the unsub broke in, possible hours before, searched for the yearbook and took their time to cut out the picture while _waiting_.”

“A trespass,” Jennifer cut through. “If you were to attempt to trespass a property, making a sound was not an option so there was no way the unsub would bang their way and alert the neighbors. No wonder the unsub went inside through a window connecting to their bedroom and got out at the backdoor. Well, except the third victim who resided in her apartment.”

“They could have gone out at that same window, but the unsub shamelessly went out to the front,” Rossi said. “Lucky for them, most of the security cameras are not working, including the fourth floor where the victim was, neither the entrance and where the unsub snuck in.”

“And no witness in all three,” the blonde further added.

“It would have been considered robbery but nothing was taken so far. Anything else was pretty much the same, no disturbance on their furniture and other equipment inside their residence except where they could possibly hide their yearbook,” Emily continued, but she paused for a while. “Strange enough, all three hide it in their bedroom.”

“Could be coincidence,” said Morgan, sipping his warm coffee. “I mean, three is not enough to tell something that can give us a heads up.”

“Not necessarily,” Hotch suddenly spoke, which got a surprise from everyone though they didn’t show it. It wasn’t just that the exchange had been going on for a while and his silence might have contributed to his minimum presence that they somehow forgot that he was even there in the first place; but it was also the fact that his niece was a target. His family member was in danger, even though she was in the headquarter, watched by many; yet they couldn’t tell how he was at this moment.

The man was enigma, almost hard to profile him. _Almost_.

“There’s a chance that it holds a significance to them. The class.” He clarified, “I saw one on her bedroom where she once kept it before she decided to move to an apartment. It’s still in her possession. She’s brought it with her.”

“A tight-knit class then,” Spencer concluded.

Tension was now stronger than before. No matter how different characteristics that the victims all shared, and despite the uniqueness they had; nothing ever stood out. No red flag. So far, everything was connected to the yearbook—to this class. The motive was unknown, yet they couldn’t rule out the possible vendetta that the unsub might have; then again, there might have been other means to it.

And to say Hotch’s niece was part of it, he couldn’t let this one go, and it seemed to be the same from the rest of the members as well.

The silence, however, didn’t last long when Rossi hummed. “Huh…”

“What is it?” Morgan looked at him, who was sitting right across the rectangle table. The Italian leaned back on his chair; eyes seemingly dazed but far from being absent-minded. It was as if he had noticed something.

“The killing happened at night, and breaking-in could have been at any time before night falls,” with a sharp gaze, he continued. “How could the unsub have known the schedule of the victims and killed them all in the right timing? _At night_.”

“A stalker,” Emily and Morgan spoke at the same time, which ended up them looking at each other with a small grin, as the black-haired woman slightly shoved him in a friendly way.

“Someone who has a strong connection to them, possibly the unsub knows where they live,” Jennifer said. “Or the unsub is _part_ of their class.”

“Could be,” Rossi cut in. “There’s a high chance that despite how tight-knit they are, one can have a hidden anger, or other motive, that resides within.”

“A high school drama, really?” Emily sighed. “Ah, kids.”

“Tell me about it,” Rossi shrugged, though a tiny smile was present on his face. He was satisfied that the heavy air somehow got elevated. It almost suffocated the old man. Spare him.

“But that’s like a hundred stalkers,” Spencer said.

_I spoke too soon_, Rossi thought.

“Yeah,” Jennifer affirmed. “And according to Garcia, some students from this class are currently out of the city, some even out of the country to pursue their career or whatever reason for their migration. Only seven of them are within this city.”

“Three of them are now dead,” Morgan sighed. “If it were someone in their class, that means among four of them, one is the unsub.”

As Rossi twirled his pen on his fingers, he reminded everyone about their techy sunshine’s discovery, “As far as we know, no records that can raise some flags, just the usual minor trouble that every high schooler have.” Halting his movement, he crossed his arms while adding, “We talked to their parents and friends, finding out that nothing seems out of ordinary.”

There was a knock on the door, which stopped them from continuing their exchange. The strained atmosphere, however, doubled and curiosity now growing on them, which prompted everyone to look at the chief whose face was written with worry

“A call came just now,” the police chief said. “There’s been another body.”

“What?” Usually, Spencer wasn’t that vocal but it was _not _even night time—still dusk—and there was another murder? Something was not right. The pattern broke. And the team actually felt that this case was turning tides.

Rossi stood up, now coming towards the chief. “It’s too early. You sure about that?”

“Yes,” the chief affirmed; a hint of confidence laced in his voice. “‘Cause the caller is a possible witness.”

* * *

For the first time in her life—not that it never happened, just that it was a rare occurrence—she enjoyed talking to someone; more specifically to someone who had the same interest as her. And damn, if it weren’t her social skills, this conversation would have gone awkward. Not that she had good social skills to begin with. Still, surprisingly, everything went so well.

Even though Penelope was a busy gal, sometimes their exchange had to be cut off because the team needed her, but after that, the techy always came back to talk to her. The student wanted to know the further details, but she knew that no one would disclose it to her.

Come to think of it, she still hadn’t researched about the creature—which she should have.

Her right ring finger suddenly burned, making her blink in shock. The metal band was glowing, now that she noticed it; and everything else about her well-being was not okay. Her stomach churned a bit, feeling uneasy.

Something was not right.

Drinking her strawberry milkshake (since she had finished her coffee way too quickly, and Pens asked her if there was anything that she needed—since the techy seemed to be craving for a shake—so she took the opportunity to order); her eyes drifted from Penelope, who was now silent (well they both were for a while now), to the outside of the bullpen.

Lo and behold the mighty seraph on her wake, standing behind the _fucking_ window like some weeping angel. 

And that she choked. She preferred to be _something else_ but not the goddamn shake, alright.

Also, the only difference he was from other creepy angels was the large black wings on his back, slightly stretching which was actually intimidating. A common knowledge that he was a celestial being—this motherfucker could smite anyone just like that.

Penelope called her name, face filled with worry since she had heard her cough and, _apparently_, wheezing the fuck out of her soul. The young woman nodded immediately, not wanting her friend to worry too much.

“You need water?”

“N-Nah,” she breathed. “I’m g-good. Just the drink.”

_Cas, how long have you been standing there?_

_Just a while._

She blinked, not believing what he just said. How come she didn’t notice him, nor his presence? She must have spaced out a lot. Rather too much now.

_What? We talked about this. You guys are my priority._

_You seem busy._

_Still._

“Uhm, Pen.” She began, now suddenly nervous. “Can I go to the visitor’s room? I, uh, just wanna rest.”

Penelope nodded, smiling as she stood up, as the young woman followed. She was grateful that the blonde didn’t question her, or perhaps she did in her mind but decided against it. Though, she was anything but tired. If one could describe her feeling, she was anxious. After all, the angel was here, and that meant something else.

Speaking of holy, Castiel decided to follow her to the room, and it seemed that only she could see him right now since no one had noticed a third party trailing behind her. Then again, that didn’t stop her from worrying.

_Cas, is something wrong?_

It was silent a moment. _The boys need you. They’ve been calling you for some time now but you never came. _

No wonder it glowed quite brightly, but that didn’t explain the sting. _Cas, are they okay…?_

_Dean is, but Sam…_

_Fuck. _

_Calm down. He’s good now._

Sighing, she tried steadying her heartbeat so as her trembling hands. That information was enough to shake her from her core.

She swore. She _fucking_ swore.

_I’m so sorry._

_It’s fine_. There was a sudden warmth that spread throughout her body, and she knew that it was his grace that had calmed her down. And it worked.

Entering the room when Penelope held the door for her, she mumbled a small thanks and sat down on the couch. The blonde then took her leave silently.

“What happened?”

“All I know they fought it. Now they’re at the motel.” Castiel said, breaking the silence. Good thing the room was sound proof, so no one could hear from the outside. The seraph remained anonymous from being visible. “So, what’s your plan?”

Sighing, she closed her eyes. “I gotta get out of here.”

“You’re under surveillance, and I couldn’t just take you.”

“I know,” the girl smiled. “But what kind of psychic am I if I don’t know a trick or two?”

“Well then,” he said, “I’ll be waiting outside the office.”

“Okay, but oh—” she stood up, facing the seraph who was waiting for her to continue. “There’s something interesting I’ve discovered today.”

Tilting his head, his blue eyes now shone with wonder. _Must be the natural lighting. How cute. _

“Milkshake don’t bring boys to the yard.”

“What?”

“It’s the angels,” she hummed, pursing her lips as she tried not to snort. “And it’s gotta be on an FBI Headquarter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact:  
[a] she can see the wings of any angels, a rare gift; only nephilims and cambians have this ability, and just a few psychics too.


	4. Princess Who?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two princesses need saving. Lots of banter, so as angst if you squint. Vows to tell, lies to hide and secrets to keep. Conflict and danger are combining forces. What's gonna happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there, i'm obi-wan kenobi. back from the dead because my semester is finally over. case study and pre-thesis paper are out of my league, but i'm scared bc of my grades tho help-  
anyway, not beta-read so let's go bois

Stress was a familiar feeling to the blonde woman, though she wished she couldn’t have it for a few days. Then again, that was what she had signed up for when FBI offered a good deal. Humming her favourite song while making coffee for the second time now, she desperately needed it at this high time especially when she got assigned to work with deep background check of the class, including the affiliated teachers and others (of course, being tasked to watch over Hotch’s goddaughter).

Lost in her own thoughts, Garcia was about to put some sugar and a bit of cream on when a call rang in her wireless headset. It startles her, almost losing her grasp on the mug. She honestly wasn’t in the mood to really entertain much, then again, a simple greet wouldn’t hurt right? With a knowing click, she answered.

“Hello?”

* * *

The precinct was almost empty, barely people in it, and yet that didn’t mean they were nowhere busy. With all the stacked papers and folders on top of their desks, some were not arranged as pens and markers scattered all over. Anybody could say this day was a hectic one. Reckon that some people were on errands, doing what they had to do.

No rest for the wicked. Neither was she.

The young college student knew she was being guarded—of course with a help of CCTV camera and pretty much a certain cheery woman observing from her abode, and there was the unnamed observer (which she bet that her uncles had _subtly _ordered them to) within the office. With that, she might pull up a bit of string here and there to escape. Not because she was just totally bored and constantly worrying on the two teams on the road, but because she had to.

She had an idea what was the _not natural_ that had been attacking her former colleagues. The reasons, however, were the only missing pieces and she was determined to find out why. Curiosity was something she couldn’t deny, but could control. Though, once it had consumed much of her body, she lacked willpower to regulate.

After all, she always hungered for knowledge.

_If there’s one thing I have to do, that is to fuck up the whole CCTV system._ She thought, currently lying anxiously on the couch, as she assessed every possible route she had to take. _Hmm, perhaps divert their attention to something else that can turn them into chicken._

“Easy,” she murmured, confidence surging through her as she closed her eyes in concentration. Without any command and wrist movements, the whole power shut down, followed by many gasps and…a lot of ‘whats’, apparently. Distant orders could be heard inside the FBI Headquarter, as radios made faint static noise and glitched voices.

Orderly chaos she caused; the student couldn’t deny the amusement. And it was only a matter of time that the backup power would turn on.

_Castiel, are you still there?_

_You know I am._

_Just making sure._

_You already are._

Smiling faintly, she looked to where the seraph was, or at least where she felt him. She could’ve used her ability but there was no point if she could feel his presence strongly.

“Let’s go.” In a blink, they were gone just as the power turned back on right after.

Meanwhile, a loud shatter echoed inside the office; broken pieces of mug scattered on the floor with its spilled coffee. The person could only breathe with berated breath.

“Oh my god.”

* * *

Running away from a scene was usually not a problem. But running away from a _possible murder scene_ with a goddamn gaping wound was not a good idea; Sam thought. Then again, Dean was not doing any better yet still rather good since he only had just scratches (still going to hurt a lot though). There was no time for dilly-dally, however, as they had to get the fuck out of there before anyone could see. For sure, someone heard all that noise and decided to call the police. That was two times now for this day. First was in the house in which they traced where the monster headed to. Unfortunately, the man died—yes, the intestines were nowhere to be seen—and they got attacked. Good thing, Cas came and zapped them out of there in time, but his power was not enough to heal them so they had to go through old school. Second, now fucking this where the monster decided to raid the motel. Their good guess? It probably traced their smell here.

For once, they just wanted a damn rest. And yet, just like that, everything went down the hill.

Puffs of breath could be seen, cold night it was but the brothers couldn’t feel it with all the adrenaline rushing through their body. Guess, it wouldn’t subside anytime soon. Leaning on the wall, they were still rather far away from the car (which was a bad idea to park it quite far away from the motel where they slept; then again thy had to be careful since FBI were back in town), perhaps just three blocks and they didn’t know if they could still move.

“You good?” Sam spoke, his gruff voice becoming raspy.

“You tell me,” said Dean as he tried to catch his breath. “Can you move?”

“I…” Same huffed, blinking his eyes to get rid of the sleepiness now slowly creeping in, “I don’t know.”

The said-older of the two could only watch, wincing as he noted the damp, bloody shirt where his younger brother got clawed on. It seemed that the wound re-opened. With a groan, he tapped him on his arm; “Come on.” The latter one simply nodded as he straightened up. As they were about to go off, there was a soft _woosh_ followed by a strong flutter of wings. On instinct, Dean pulled out a gun, clicking it on, and was going to shoot the fucker away but—

“Dean!”

The older brother dropped his gun and swayed a bit, now on a verge of collapsing. The silhouette, however, caught him before he could totally drop dead on the cold pavement. Sam would’ve been thankful but considering he didn’t know whoever made his brother lose his consciousness, he swore he’d raise hell for the third time. But when he tried to fight them off, a hand came contact with his forehead and he, too, lost his wake.

Castiel caught the younger Winchester before he could, as well, flop on the road. The college student chuckled, giving him a cheeky grin. “Well, that was funny.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Now, now. Please do carry him like a princess, would ya?”

Castiel, though, was not amused and shot her a deadpan look. “You done?”

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. Shifting on her weight, she decided to lower herself down, bringing Dean with her, since she couldn’t actually carry him that easy. Curse him for being tall and heavy. “Anyway, you said they were at the motel. Do you have any idea what’s happened?”

The angel sighed, watching the woman who smoothed the older Winchester’s hair, his wounds now closing up. It was as if a mother nursing his child with just a caress. “My best guess is that whatever killed your friends traced them there.”

She hummed, eyes now seemingly lost somewhere—or so how Castiel thought to be. Clearing her throat, she smiled. “Well, let’s go to the carriage, shall we?”

“Will you stop—”

With a snap of a finger, the seraph and the psychic immediately ended up inside the impala. Both were rather in a perfect position, surprisingly: Castiel being on the driver seat and Dean on the front seat still sleeping, whereas Sam was lying down on the passenger, head resting upon the young woman’s lap. The angel was rather dumbfounded for a bit, but it shouldn’t have come as a shock if she could bring him wherever she wished to go. After all, only a natural could do it.

“Hey, Cassie. You okay? Or you want me to drive?”

Castiel snapped out of his thoughts before furrowing his eyebrows when he processed what she said. “No, you stay there.”

“Oh, come on. You know I can drive.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Oh, dear Almight Father. He could very well remember the last time they let her drive, alright. “Just do what you can with Sam,” he tutted, glancing at her who was now tending to the tall man.

Grinning, she knew he had a sudden flashback to that one incident. With a chirp, she said amusingly. “Aight. Let’s go.”

Then they were off to another motel.

* * *

Jennifer stuffed her hand through her pockets, the thickness of her coat did warm her up. But the case was close to become a cold one. Emily, who was beside her, still had a cup of coffee on her hand which was another way for her not to be frozen due to the chilly wind—and made her stay awake as well. It was silent for a while as they looked around the perimeter of the house to see if they missed something. Apparently, there was no CCTV near them and the road was almost empty. The only thing it was filled was the cars and its blue and red light, shining the dim-lit area.

Not long after, Derek came with a troubled face and the two women could tell that whatever he was about to say would definitely change the tide.

“What is it?” Emily decided to be the first one to speak, as the dark male seemed to be confused about something—perhaps it had to do with what the witness told him so.

“Three.”

“What?” asked Jennifer, who in turn was confused about his short answer. Although, Emily caught on what he meant as she took a deep breath. This made the blonde watch her colleagues closely, until it clicked on her.

“No way…”

“Yeah. Kara said, there were three people went out from the house.”

“But how? It just doesn’t fit the profile?” Emily asked, frustration was evident on her tone. No one could blame her, seeing that it happened so fast and now this information suddenly came knocking off the door without any notice?! “I’d be damned if we’re here going at it in a wrong house but we all know the scene fits to what we have seen.”

“It could be a copy-cat,” Derek suggested but he, too, knew it was impossible considering the nature of the crime. It wasn’t sloppy and rather neat in execution—when you think about it. It was if it were planned out. Except this time, the house was utterly chaos especially in the living room which seemed to be there was a fight going on. It could’ve been played off as a victim going at it with the unsub, but it looked heavy and lots of struggle which didn’t suit with the victim’s profile being aggressive. Even more, the witness confirmed other else entirely.

“There’s something else,” the male said, feeling rather unsure. Nonetheless, he still disclosed what he got from the witness, “There was an antique-looking black car passing through after the commotion.”

With that, it strung them with such familiarity to which they couldn’t put into.

* * *

**12:00AM**

It was midnight, but the young woman couldn’t sleep. Mind was elsewhere yet no thoughts in deep. More like her brain was just blank, and she could only stare at the ring settled on her ring-finger. Sitting by the window, she watched with such fascination as its golden hue glinted under the moonlight. The room they were in was dark enough to observe its warm glow. Her eyes then traveled to the Winchester brothers, fast asleep; wounds were healed. Rest, they needed.

So was she; but guess, this time she couldn’t.

The angel, however, was in front of her, looking at her silently as his blue eyes switching between her face and the ring. He didn’t know what she was thinking as of the moment, even with his ability to read minds—he couldn’t get through. She was smart enough to block him, then again, for a young adult such as her; she was scarily clever.

“Is it glowing?” her voice was so soft, almost like a whisper when she spoke. Castiel nodded, bringing up the same golden band, resting on his ring-finger. It was warm but also cold; a perfect analogy to what they were currently in.

“Good.”

The student knew he was observing, yet she couldn’t care less. After all, the wall she built up was enough for him not to pry over her mind. There were still secrets she had to keep, including the existence of the ring.

“Why did you make this ring?”

He might not have read her mind but he did know how to read her body. _Am I that obvious?_ Although, she wasn’t thinking _consciously_ about the ring, but perhaps she was thinking about it all this time. “Didn’t I tell you that already?”

“To trace us.”

“Yep.”

“But it doesn’t seem like it.”

Now, that got her attention. Slowly putting her hand down on her lap, she gazed at him with such challenging eyes as if she dared him to dissect her motive behind the making of this ring. Though, honestly, she got to give him a credit for being cautious around her despite she was around them for years. Then again, she didn’t ask anything for return from all their hospitality and moments she shared with them.

“Perhaps.”

Short. Blunt. Cryptic. Castiel couldn’t tell if she were lying or saying the truth. Nevertheless, there was no malice lacing in her voice, neither the way her eyes held him in place. “You’re not denying it…and you’re not confirming it either.”

She grinned genuinely, seemingly happy that he didn’t hold any hostility towards her after she said that. It should’ve been obvious since angels tend to sense such, yet it made her happy, still. “Do you trust me, Cas?”

Without hesitation, he nodded. “I do.”

“Then, so do I.”

A simple declaration in which both silently agreed upon. Never to be brought this conversation up to the brothers, and should remain hidden until the right time comes in.


End file.
